Unique in the Universe
by pmichelc
Summary: Spencer Reid wants to protect abduction victim Sloane immediately. Determined, compassionate, and loving, Sloane brings a light he didn't know he could experience. As the team investigates the circumstances behind her husband's murder, her captivity, and the unsub behind it all, Spencer realizes over time that she could be his second chance at happiness and he could be hers.
1. Hope had already entered

**_Disclaimer in Profile. Enjoy!_**

"I have to go right now but when I get back...we'll have that lesson okay?"

The man grazed his thumb over Sloane's cheek, twisting his other four fingers in her sun-kissed curls. He stared straight at her, waiting for her reply, but all she could do was nod, with a forced smile appearing in the corner of her mouth.

He kissed her hair before rising from his knees and making his way towards the exit, Sloane's gaze following his every move, her hands gripping the arms of the rocking chair she sat in. Before he reached the door, he turned back to her, an excited glint in his eyes.

"I'm really glad that you're here, Mrs. Garner."

It took all Sloane had to play into his fantasy tonight.

Even though it would be the last time.

"Me too, Charlie." She said.

The man smiled at his name coming from her lips, opened the door, and pulled it tightly closed behind him.

Sloane craned her neck so her ear was pointing up to the ceiling, listening to his departure. She heard his steel toed boots clunking on the hardwood floors above her and the creek of the closet door opening as he got his rain coat. She closed her eyes as she imagined him slipping it over his broad shoulders, adjusting it as he looked in the mirror, and running a hand through his black hair. It wasn't long before she finally heard him walk out of the house, locking the front door behind him.

The familiar roar of his 1979 Ford truck engine vibrated throughout the house, shaking the panes of the tiny basement window. Sloane held her breath as the vibration eased until it was gone altogether as the truck rumbled down the bumpy dirt road. She let out a sigh of relief and forced herself to become focused on the task at hand.

It was time.

He thought that he had finally established complete control over her.

After almost a year, he thought that he had her.

He couldn't be farther from the truth.

Sloane stood up and crept quietly to the door, twisting the rusted handle to see if she was lucky and the lock hadn't clicked into place. Predictably, her luck was nowhere to be seen and she knew she would have to stick with her original plan.

So out the window she went.

Sloane dragged the rocking chair across the room and stood on it as she examined the window. After a couple of test knocks, she crouched down, brought up the lamp and smashed the base of it through the glass. She cleared out the shards and hoisted herself up onto the window ledge but stopped before she crawled through it, wanting to survey the room she had been held in these long months.

She had to look at it one last time.

In the middle of the room was the rainbow squared carpet where the man usually sat as she taught or read to him from her purple rocking chair, with him gazing fondly up at her. The four floor to ceiling bookshelves didn't seem as tall from her perch, the books that he rotated her through packed on the shelves.

Sloane knew that those books were the only thing that she would miss about that place.

The play table still had clay on it from their 'lesson' earlier; _it will probably be dried out by the time he gets home tonight_ Sloane thought. She scanned the many posters on the walls and paused at the one the man had her quote to him everyday.

" _The more that you read, the more things you'll know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go."_

Sloane scoffed at that.

She had learned a lot within the last 11 months but hadn't been anywhere in a long time.

With one last glance, Sloane turned and crawled through the window, taking care to watch the glass as she went. She stood up in the hole and stood on her tiptoes as she grabbed ahold of the metal grate above her. Sloane's fingers curled around one of the bars and she leaned her forehead against the brick wall, thanking God that he had allowed her access to heavy duty tools as she helped him out in the garden; she had loosened the screws on the grate a few days earlier.

Sloane pushed the grate up and out of the hole before hoisting herself up after it. She placed her feet gingerly on the grass, feeling the blades tickle her soles, and breathed in the brisk night air. She had never been out of the house at night and had no way of knowing where to go; all she knew was that she had to get out of there.

Immediately.

Sloane glanced around, skimmed her hands up her arms, and decided on the direction she would go, hoping it would lead her to safety.

Anywhere seemed safer than there.

Then, she ran away through the night.

* * *

"Alright my super friends, we have a doozy for you this morning." Penelope Garcia chirped as she brought some images onto the tv screen and their tablets.

"This is Sloane Bowman." Garcia pointed to the DMV photo of a young woman with curly, dirty blonde hair. "She's a 27 year old elementary school teacher. She and her husband, Scott Bowman," another DMV photo, this of a young man with blonde hair and bright green eyes, swished onto the screen. "A prosecutor, were abducted outside of a movie theater almost 11 months ago in Solana Beach, California. The local PD investigated but were left with no leads and so the case ran cold; until today."

The face of the same girl, though slightly older and paler, came on as a different image. This time she was sitting on a hospital bed, her white gown bringing out the yellow of her skin.

"A few hours ago, a family driving back to New Jersey from DC found Sloane on the side of the road, claiming that her husband had been murdered in front of her and she had been held captive by the same man who committed said murder. He called himself Charlie and had her teach him like he was a student in her class. Sloane brought the local PD to the house where she had been held but the man, Charlie, was in the wind."

"It's very uncommon for an unsub to bring a victim across state lines, let alone hold someone for that long." Tara said. "It's obvious that Sloane was a target and that Scott was killed because he was in the way of the unsub's fantasy; of having an in home teacher."

"Is Charlie his real name?" asked Emily.

"I have no idea," Garcia sighed. "Sadly, I have been unable to find anything on the creep. The last person to own the house was an 89 year old widow named Betty Peterson," an image of an older African American woman popped up. "But it appears she died over a year ago, going by the mummified decomposing body that was found buried in the backyard that matches her description. Another one was found matching Sloane's husband, Scott; both were shot in the back of the head."

"So why is this a BAU case?" Luke asked. "I mean, it's terrible what happened to this woman and she needs protection but what are we being brought in for?"

"Ah, thank you Cool hand Luke for asking the million dollar question!" Garcia paused. "Apparently, Sloane believes that this man is not only a threat to her but to the DC community. He told her after the many times she tried to escape that if she ever left, he would make another woman take her place. So eventually, she agreed to not try again as long as he didn't harm anyone."

"Looking at these exam photos, it doesn't appear that she was being restrained. So,Sloane gained his trust enough that he gave her freedoms." JJ observed. She casted a side-eye at Spencer, his eyes were glued to his tablet. "But what made her suddenly desperate to leave after all that time?"

"Something had to have changed." Simmons chimed in. "Something about this guy must have alarmed Sloane so much to make her go back on her promise."

"Sloane is a teacher, most likely a natural protector. It's easy to see why she would agree to something like that if it meant that no one would get hurt." Rossi added. "A change would have to have been big enough for her to fear for herself and others so much to risk that."

"If we find out what that was, we can have a better chance at catching this guy before anyone else is taken." Emily said as she gathered the case files and tablet into her arms. "Rossi and Matt, I'd like you to go to the Coroner's office and talk to the ME and see if there's anything else on both Mrs. Peterson and Scott Bowman." The two nodded in agreement. "JJ, Reid and Luke, I want you guys to go to the house where Sloane had been held to get a read on this guy; figure out why he took her and what her role there was. And Tara and I will go talk to Sloane-"

"I want to talk to her," Spencer interrupted, his eyes were still fixated on his tablet.

The whole team exchanged glances at Spencer's abruptness.

"Reid, I think after this ordeal, Sloane will feel more comfortable talking to two women." Emily asserted. "You know that female victims are more willing to open up to other women about their trauma then-"

"You're right but I know I can talk to her." Spencer insisted. "I don't know how or why but I just know." He looked up at Emily. "Please, trust me."

Emily was at a loss for words but she did trust him. She knew he was probably onto something that she hadn't caught yet and because this was so out of the norm for him, she decided to go with it.

"Okay...Reid, you and JJ will go and talk to Sloane. Luke will come with Tara and I to the house. Garcia, keep digging into Betty's life to figure out if she knew the unsub and any overlap into Scott and Sloane Bowman." Garcia saluted as Emily got out of her chair and looked at her team. "Let's get going."

She walked out of the room with Rossi at her side while Tara and Matt rose from their chairs and followed, already talking about the case. Luke went up and helped Garcia clear the remaining files and JJ strode over to Spencer who had yet to rise from his chair.

"Alright, what are you thinking in that head of yours?" She asked with a grin.

Spencer remained silent, zooming in on the image of Sloane on his screen.

"Spence?" JJ covered the victim's face with her hand. The action snapped Spencer from his daze and his brown eyes met hers. "Are you okay?

He blinked.

"Yes, of course, why?"

JJ let out a soft laugh.

"Because we just had a case presented to us and you hardly said a word, or a random fact or statistic the whole time. Plus, you questioned Emily, and that's not something that has happened very often since she took over for Hotch." Her face looked concerned. "Is there something wrong?"

Spencer mussed his hair and shrugged.

"No, no, nothing's wrong. Sorry, I guess I have other things on my mind." He finally stood from his chair and shoved everything into a messenger bag. "But, we should probably go right?"

Spencer strode from the room without waiting for a reply, leaving JJ gaping after him. She turned to Garcia and Luke, who both wore similar expressions on their faces, not knowing what to say.

* * *

Spencer and JJ got to the DC hospital and were met by Sloane's doctor, a petite Hispanic woman named Dr. Stewart.

"Dr. Stewart, it's nice to meet the both of you." She said, shook JJ's hand and nodded at Reid when he didn't offer her his.

"I'm Jennifer Jareau and this is Spencer Reid. Thank you so much for talking with us."

Dr. Stewart signaled for them to follow her as she walked down the hall towards Sloane's room.

"Sloane Bowman's mother just flew in from California and is with her now. I've let them know that you'd like to talk with her and she seems to be fairly responsive and open."

"How is she? Medically, I mean." Spencer asked.

"She's lucky is how she is." Dr. Stewart said, her hands burying themselves into her coat pockets. "Sloane is relatively healthy, with hardly any malnourishment, degenerative muscles...this guy actually gave a damn about all of that. She does have some old sprains and plenty of cuts and bruises but it looks like it's been awhile since he touched her."

JJ looked puzzled.

"Any signs of sexual assault?"

Spencer's slight cringe at the question didn't go unnoticed by JJ.

"Actually, there were none." Dr. Stewart answered, shaking her head. "I'm not saying that I am an expert in these type of cases in any way but keeping her all that time and not laying a hand on her? She's got to be the luckiest woman alive."

Spencer's gaze darkened.

"Oh yeah. If being held against your will for 11 months by the man who killed your husband is lucky than Sloane really hit the jackpot didn't she?" Spencer responded sarcastically before moving past the doctor and knocking on the door to Sloane's room.

JJ gave the speechless doctor an apologetic look and quickly followed Spencer.

"Come in," Sloane's voice came from the other side of the door.

JJ took the lead into the room with Spencer close at her heels.

Sloane was sitting cross-legged on her bed with an open book balanced between her legs while she spoon fed herself red Jell-o. Her dirty blonde curls had been hastily piled on top of her head with little wisps escaping, slightly covering her hazel eyes. She looked up as they came in, her interest immediately piqued.

An older version of Sloane, the only difference being darker hair and eyes, took up a small chair at the end of the bed. She stood up and approached the agents.

"You must be the FBI." Her voice carried a thick Spanish accent. "I'm Raquel Simon, Sloane's mother."

"Mrs. Simon," JJ shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you, though I wish it weren't under these circumstances."

Mrs. Simon nodded and clutched the handles of her small purse.

"Do you two need to talk to Sloane?..."

"Yes," Spencer answered, his gaze moving to Sloane. "It would be best if you weren't here to hear it though."

"But-"

"Mom." Sloane spoke, low and soft. "I'll be fine. Can you get me some more Jell-o?...Please?"

Mrs. Simon exchanged a glance with JJ and Spencer. She then went over to her daughter, touched her cheek with her hand, and gave her a slight nod. With her eyes on her shoes, she left.

When the door swung closed, JJ and Spencer moved in further into the room.

"Mrs. Bowman, my name is-" JJ started.

"Stop." Sloane cut her off, raising her hand to her. "Please, don't call me that."

"I-I don't understand." JJ stuttered.

Sloane placed her book beside her, the Jell-o on a tray, and sat back onto the bed, obvious pain reflecting in her eyes.

"I stopped being Mrs. Bowman the day that that...monster, killed Scott." She bit her lip and attempted to hold back the tears. "That day, our family died and I was no longer Sloane Bowman anymore...I'm not Sloane Bowman without Scott." She took a deep breath. "So please, just call me Sloane."

"I'm sorry, Sloane," Spencer said quietly and sat on the foot of Sloane's bed. "My name is Dr Spencer Reid and this is Agent Jennifer Jareau. We didn't mean to upset you."

JJ waved lamely and watched in amazement as Spencer held his hand out to Sloane. She hesitated before accepting his hand in hers, giving it a firm shake before dropping it and twining her fingers in her hair.

"It's okay." Sloane turned away, wiping the few tears that had escaped with the back of her hand. "I've had to tell all of the officers since I got here so I guess I'm just getting a little annoyed by the repetition."

JJ pulled up the single chair in the room to the side of the bed and sat down.

"Sloane," JJ said slowly. "We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions about the man who kept you."

Sloane's eyes narrowed cautiously.

"Why? I already told the officers everything." Sloane had now begun braiding a small piece of her hair; something to keep her hands occupied.

"We know, but…" Spencer cleared his throat. "We are from the Behavioral Analysis Unit at the FBI. We study the behavior of criminals in order to figure out who they are and what their motives and intentions are. Some of the questions we ask you will probably be different than what you have been asked before and it's all so we can generate a profile and stop this man before he hurts anyone else."

Spencer looked at Sloane questioningly.

"Would it be okay if you told us about it? We can stop whenever you are feeling overwhelmed but it would just really help us catch him."

Sloane let go of her hair and pulled the book she had been reading into her lap instead.

"Okay...what do you want to know?"

"Could you start from the beginning?" JJ asked. "Start from the day that the man took you and Scott."

Sloane's grip on the book tightened and she nodded.

"Scott and I were walking back to our car after watching this action movie. The theater was packed and we got there late so we ended up having to park at the farthest part of the lot." She gave out a little laugh. "Scott was always making us late for things because he would underestimate the traffic.

"We were almost to our car when I felt something pull me backwards from behind. And then I felt metal pressing against my head. From the look on Scott's face, I knew that we were in trouble and I knew it was a gun.

"Scott kept telling him to calm down and to not hurt me but the man didn't say a word, didn't stop, just made gestures for us to follow him-"

"And did you say or do anything?" Spencer asked.

Sloane bit her lip and shook her head.

"It was like I was frozen," she said, her voice cracking on the word frozen. "There were no thoughts in my head and I just didn't think that it was real."

"What did he look like?" JJ asked. "Had you seen him before?"

Sloane nodded.

"He was white, middle aged, balding, reddish hair. I saw him watching me from the other side of the fence at the playground at my school a few times. I told my principal but I never saw him there again after that."

JJ tried to get Spencer's attention but he kept his eyes on Sloane.

"Then what happened?"JJ asked instead.

"So I just went along with what he wanted, hoping Scott would get us out of it." Sloane continued. "Then the man walked us to the truck bed of an old Ford and opened the door.

"He had me put a zip tie around Scott's wrists and Scott did the same to me. Before I even knew what was happening, the man hit the butt of his gun against the back of Scott's head and shoved him into the truck. He pointed his gun at me and waved it at the truck so I got in and sat next to Scott."

Sloane blew out some air and brought the book to her chest.

"And afterwards?"

Sloane's gaze met Spencer's at his words but then quickly flicked away.

"He started walking to the driver's side of the truck and that was when I started screaming and stood up; it was like I found my voice again.

"But no one was close to us and all of the sudden, he was there with his hand over my mouth, shoving me back down into the bed. The way he was looking at me, I could tell he was begging me to do what he wanted. I had some fight back in me though so I tried getting away from him but then I felt a hard hit and then everything went black."

Spencer tapped the side of his head in thought.

"So he never once spoke to you?"

"No," Sloane said. "Not at first anyways and not during that. He didn't start speaking to me until much later. He just pointed and grunted…"

She closed her eyes to work on steadying her breathing.

Spencer reached out and grabbed her forearm. He could feel the leather from the book she was holding under his fingertips; he could also feel her trembling.

"We can stop right now if it's too much-" Spencer began.

"N-no." Sloane stuttered, trying to act more confidence than she was feeling. "The things that I tell you...they can make sure that he doesn't take another girl right?"

Spencer and JJ looked at one another.

"Right?" Sloane repeated with more strength in her voice. She took her free hand and gripped Spencer's, forcing him to focus back on her.

Spencer swallowed, his gaze moving to their joined hands, and then back to her hazel eyes.

"Any information that you can give us will give us a greater likelihood of catching the man...yes," he responded reluctantly. "But we also want you to know we are considerate of the emotional state that you must be in given the trauma that you have experienced."

Sloane released her hold on Spencer, and instead laced her fingers on her lap.

"Thank you for that but um...I believe that the life of another woman is more important than my 'emotional state'...I'd like to keep going."

JJ gave her a small a reassuring smile and Spencer sat back, waiting for her to continue.

"I woke up strapped to a chair with Scott kneeling in front of me and he was gagged...he looked really scared." Her voice broke and her hand came to her mouth. "The man came out with the gun and then spoke the only words that he would say to me for months…"Now you can give all of your time to me."

"I cried out to Scott and the man brought his gun to the back of his head. I told Scott that I loved him...I kept saying it over and over again...and then he shot him."

Tears flowed freely down her cheeks at this point. Sloane knew there was no point in trying to hide them anymore.

She didn't want to treat Scott's memory that way either.

"I started crying and it seemed like it made him mad. He shook me and hit me until I blacked out." Sloane sniffled. "The first two months that I was there, that's all I was good for: crying. It made him so frustrated."

Suddenly, Sloane's breaths came out shorter and shorter, sweat built near her hairline, and her eyes became panicked. Spencer stood up and shot a worried glance at JJ.

"She's having a panic attack, can you get her some water?"

JJ rushed to the water pitcher beside the wall and poured a glass. Spencer moved to Sloane's side and placed a hand on her back.

"Put your head in between your legs and concentrate on your breathing. I'm going to count to 5 and I want you to take a deep breath the whole time and then let it out slowly; can you do that?" Spencer instructed Sloane. She nodded, brought her knees up, and did what he said. JJ handed Spencer the water and he brought it to Sloane lips, talking soothingly to her as she drained the cup.

"Thanks," she muttered, and patted her forehead on her sleeve, her breathing settling into a normal rhythm. "You do this often in the BAU?"

"Do what?" Spencer asked.

"Coach crazy women through panic attacks like it's your job."

Spencer smiled. One of the biggest smiles JJ had seen him give in a long time.

"Yes," he chuckled, lightly. "It's one of my specialties...though I don't think you're crazy; far from it actually"

Sloane gave out a tearful scoff and reached for her book again.

"Well I think we've gotten enough information for now," JJ said, glancing between the two of them. "But we'll be in touch. Thank you."

"Sure," she replied, her voice heavy. "Thank you for all you guys are doing to get him."

JJ nodded and began walking out the door when Spencer's voice stopped her.

"Is that a first edition of Sense and Sensibility?"

Sloane dabbed her eyes and held it out to him to examine.

"Yeah." She cleared her throat. "It's one of my favorites...my dad bought it for me for my 18th birthday."

Spencer inspected the spine of the book and opened it.

"I haven't met too many people who would claim that Sense and Sensibility was their favorite Jane Austen book...why is it yours?"

"I'm not sure...I think I related to Elinor a lot growing up," Sloane answered thoughtfully, as Spencer's fingers ran between the book's pages. "She's always putting the needs of her family before her own and is so deserving of love; I didn't think much about love till I met Scott."

Spencer settled on a page and began to read.

" "But remember that the pain of parting from friends will be felt by everybody at times, whatever be their education or state. Know your own happiness. You want nothing but patience; or give it a more fascinating name: call it hope.""

Sloane's eyes looked Spencer up and down, as if she were sizing him up, and remained silent. Spencer returned her gaze with compassion, a small smile on his lips. JJ took that as the cue to leave.

"Thank you Sloane. Let's go Spencer," she gently wrapped her hand around his arm and tugged him toward the exit. He returned the book to Sloane and went to follow JJ. Suddenly, the door was flung open and a black dog ran into the room, heading straight to Sloane.

"K-9!" she squealed as the dog jumped onto the bed and began to cover her with kisses. "I can't believe you're here! I missed you so much!"

"That's your dog?" Spencer asked incredulously. "K-9?"

Sloane brought K-9 into her lap, scratched his ears, and shrugged.

"You're totally going to make fun of me but uh…one of my favorite shows of all -time is _Doctor Who_...I'm sure you don't know too much about it but the main character, the doctor, has a robotic dog named K-9 at one point...not the species Canine but the actual letter and number K-9 and I always thought it would be cool to name my dog that..." She paused. "And you don't really care that much and I'm just rambling… I'll stop now."

Spencer's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened, completely at a loss of words. Soon after, a young man in his early twenties burst in and joined Sloane and K-9 on the bed.

"Did you miss me too?" He asked Sloane, his tongue hanging jokingly out of the side of his mouth.

"Of course I missed you Cammy!" She exclaimed and threw her arms around him, K-9 being squashed in between them.

"In all seriousness though, I'm really glad you're here," Sloane said when she ended the hug.

"Where else would I be?...you're my sister and Scott...Scott was my brother." He reached out and squeezed her hand. "I'm so sorry Sloane."

She nodded, not able to say anything in response, and returned his sympathetic squeeze.

Raquel returned then, seeing both of her children and K-9 on the bed and sighed.

"Dios mio Cameron, the hospital is being nice enough allowing K-9 into Sloane's room. Let's not do anything to disrespect their kindness such as letting the dog on her bed!"

"Sorry mom," Cameron said, letting go of Sloane's hand and standing up, pulling the dog into his arms. He placed K-9 onto the floor and turned to JJ and Spencer, who were still both awkwardly standing in the doorway. He appeared to look more like his mother than his sister, with the same darker coloring, but stood much taller than the both of them.

"Are you guys the Feds?" Cameron asked, eyeing them curiously.

"Uh, yes," JJ responded, pulling on Spencer again, this time with more strength. "But we were just leaving. Excuse us."

JJ finally budged Spencer from the spot and out of the room and didn't stop or release her hold on him until they had reached the end of the hallway and rounded the corner.

"Spence, what was that about?" She asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

"I don't know what you mean." Spencer argued clenching his messenger bag strap in one fist.

"Oh come on," JJ countered. "You've been acting weird since we got this case this morning. And the way you were with Sloane in there...I've never seen you reach out to a victim like that before."

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, not knowing what to say.

JJ sighed and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I know that was probably hard for you...listening to Sloane talk about her husband being killed. I can't help but wonder if it's hitting you hard because it's similar to the way that Maeve was killed."

As usual Spencer flinched at the sound of her name and ran a shaky hand through his hair as JJ went on.

"I know the anniversary of her death was last week and no one would blame you if you needed to step away-"

"No," Spencer interrupted, shrugging out of JJ's grip. "That's not it. No offense JJ but you have no clue what you're talking about."

"Yeah, maybe I don't but it's because you're not talking to me Spence!" JJ threw her hands in the air in frustration. "I want to help you but I can't unless you talk to me. This is what friends do, they talk, so please...talk to me."

Spencer sighed and leaned against the wall, his eyes glossed over in thought.

"When I saw the picture of Sloane this morning...it was like I knew her. It was as if I had met her before because she just seemed so familiar. And then just now when we were in there," Spencer put his hands in his pockets, his hair fell into his eyes. "I wanted to take away all of her pain. I mean, you're right; the murder of her husband did remind me of Maeve…how couldn't it? I watched the woman I loved get killed right before my eyes just as she watched the man that she loved be murdered right in front of her. I can relate to her but it's something more than that- that I just can't find the words to convey how I feel exactly."

Spencer pushed himself away from the wall and moved closer to JJ.

"All I know is that I will do everything that I can to find the man who did this. If anything, meeting Sloane has given me greater motivation and better focus to put all of my best efforts towards this case." Spencer cleared his throat. "I know I can do this JJ. I'm sorry for not being honest with you before..I wasn't even ready to be honest with myself."

JJ hugged Spencer before he even knew what was happening and he returned it with a laugh.

"What was that for?" He asked.

JJ laughed with him.

"It's just nice to see you so human for a change; not knowing something is a new one for you. Just...be careful okay."

Spencer nodded and pressed his lips together in a line.

"So...should we let everyone else in what Sloane told us?"

JJ pulled out her phone and after a few clicks on the screen, put it against her ear.

"Yep. I'm hoping Garcia can help us out with something."


	2. Somewhere only we know

_Disclaimer: I only reference the title of a song, all rights belong to songwriter._

Emily, Tara, and Luke drove up to the old farmhouse in Chincoteague, Virginia where Sloane had been held captive for almost a year.

It was always disheartening to see what had once been a home be turned into a prison.

They walked up the porch steps of the house, wind chimes tinkled softly through the breeze, and were met by the head detective on the case, Diana Martin. Her graying hair was done in a pixie cut and, a baggy black suit hung loosely off of her body.

"Are you guys with the BAU?" She asked, extending a hand to Emily.

"Agents Prentiss, Alvez, and Dr. Lewis." Emily introduced, turning to Luke and Tara. The detective shook their hands with a curt nod.

"We really appreciate you guys coming in on this. The moment I first spoke to Sloane and then came and saw this place, I knew that this was right up your team's alley."

Emily let out a scoff.

"Glad we were thought of first." She scanned the front of the house with narrowed eyes. "Would you mind walking us through the house, letting us know what you have found so far?"

The detective waved her hand and invited them into the house. They walked through the entryway and took in the 80s country house decor with curiosity and skepticism, looking for anything that seemed out of place.

"Well the majority of the house hasn't revealed anything relevant or of note." Detective Martin said, placing her hands on her hips in thought. "It seems to be in the same condition that Betty Peterson left it in; hell, probably the condition it's been in since her husband died in '86. The real horror show is downstairs in the basement where Sloane was held."

"Did the Peterson's have any children?" Luke asked.

"Uh, no...no children." Detective answered. "No nieces or nephews either from what we knew about them. The Peterson's liked to keep to themselves. They didn't talk much about their lives before they moved to Chincoteague."

Emily pursed her lips.

"Luke, you stay up here and see if there is any sign of the unsub in the house that could give us any information on him," Emily said and Luke set off further into the room without a word. "Detective, let's have a look at this basement shall we?"

Detective Martin led Emily and Tara down steep basement steps, with each one creaking underneath their weight. They reached the bottom and felt soft pillowy carpet beneath their feet. Both agents were silent as they surveyed the room.

The walls were painted a bright purple and were covered with inspirational posters, children's art projects and classroom rules written on huge pieces of lined paper, all torn to shreds. Two massive bookshelves had been turned over onto the floor, books splayed onto the rainbow carpet. A white board had been set up next to a rocking chair matching the walls and fractions were drawn with careful precision on it, eraser marks obscuring bits of the numbers and shapes. Only two items were left without untouched by the chaos; a teacher and student desk.

Emily and Tara exchanged nervous glances.

"So this unsub, is clearly stuck in the second grade...something traumatic must have happened to him during that time and maybe he blames his teacher for not helping him and is trying to make it right with Sloane Bowman?" Tara speculated.

Emily walked over to the teacher's desk and examined the objects placed there. It was bare, besides a writing pad, an apple, and a pencil holder. She noticed the dust collecting around the objects, and a space clear of dust at the end of the desk.

"He took something off of this desk before he ran. Does there look to be anything missing from the student's desk Tara?"

Tara knelt down and looked at the desk, noting a spot between a bobble-head and an empty water bottle above the name tag. She traced Charlie's name written in cursive with the tip of her finger and nodded to Emily.

"He definitely had something sitting here."

Emily walked back over to the detective, determination evident on her face.

"We need to focus on how he left the room rather than imagining it for what it was." Emily observed."

"What do you mean?" Detective Martin asked.

"The unsub messed up everything in this room, most likely when he discovered that Sloane was missing, from rage and possibly rejection. But, he left both of these desks almost as they were...why would he do that?"

"To throw us off?" Detective Martin guessed.

"With an unsub like this, he wouldn't be capable of ruining his fantasy just to trick us. He feels the most sentimental about these two desks." Tara explained. "His motivations behind taking Sloane are probably locked away somewhere here, whether literally or symbolically.

"He took two mementos that are detrimental to his fantasy that cannot be replaced, otherwise he would've left them when he destroyed the could be from his childhood, maybe even gifts that he received from his teacher that meant a lot to him."

A CSI was touching the white board on the far wall and leaped out of the way when it suddenly came down and a small bed took its place. The detective, Emily, and Tara all stared at the bed for a moment, thinking again about the girl who was once held here.

"We need Sloane to tell us what those items on the desk were. Detective, are the images from the crime scene already uploaded onto the online case file?" Emily asked, breaking the silence, and she brought her phone out in front of her.

"I believe they were put on there a few hours ago." Detective Martin answered, confused.

"The all powerful Garcia present, bow down before me," Garcia's rang out through the room through the phone.

"Garcia, can you access the crime scene photos from Betty Peterson's farmhouse?"

Garcia scoffed.

"Can I access the crime scene photos- do you know who you're talking to Emily Prentiss? Did I not just say I was 'all powerful'?" Garcia asked in mock disbelief. "Of course! I've been staring at them for the past hour and, let me tell you, this guy takes "homework" to a whole new level."

"Tell me about it." Emily replied. "Can you send the images from the two desks to Reid and JJ so that Sloane Bowman can take a look at them?"

"You got it! I also found some general information on Betty Peterson and Sloane and Scott Bowman...I'll send that to your tablets as well!"

"Thanks Garcia. Can you also double check if the Peterson's have any family or relatives that we don't know about."

"Also any services that Mrs. Peterson may have needed within the last five years; plumbers, electricians, anything like that." Tara said.

"I will get right on that and reply shortly! TTFN friends!" Garcia chirped before hanging up.

"What are you thinking?" Detective Martin questioned.

"I'm thinking that Mrs. Peterson most likely knew the unsub." Emily responded. "For him to feel comfortable enough to create his fantasy in this house, he had to have staked it out for months beforehand. He would've come into the house multiple times and pictured everything playing out perfectly here."

"So this house wasn't random?"

Tara shook her head.

"Nothing about this unsub is random."

All three women turned as they heard footsteps echoing down the stairwell. Luke appeared on the bottom step and met their expectant gazes.

"You guys need to come look at this."

* * *

Rossi and Simmons were in the tiny Chincoteague morgue with two decomposing bodies laid out on a table. An older Indian man, Dr. Dhaval Patel, the coroner, stood between them.

"There isn't much to tell with these two." Dr. Patel said, gesturing to both skulls. "COD were gunshot wounds to the back of the head but Betty Peterson here," the coroner tapped close to the woman's body, "showed no signs of restraint or injury...but Scott," his eyes moved over to the other body, "has fractured wrists and blunt force trauma to the head."

"That matches the story that Sloane shared with Spencer and JJ," Rossi observed. "Sloane had to put zip ties around Scott's wrists and he had been knocked in the head with the butt of the unsub's gun."

"Were injuries to Scott done post or peri-mortem?" Rossi asked, narrowing his eyes at Dr. Patel.

"Peri-mortem. Nothing out of the norm seems to be done to the body post-mortem." Dr. Patel answered matter of factly.

A nurse came in and handed Dr. Patel a folder and murmured something in his ear.

"There was a bus crash Route 13...7 bodies are about to roll through here." Dr. Patel informed them. "Please let me know if you need anything else."

He shook hands with both agents, and then followed the nurse out the double doors, leaving Rossi and Simmons alone.

"So what I would like to know, is why didn't he do anything to Betty Peterson?" Simmons asked. "What was the difference between her and Scott Bowman?"

"Maybe he didn't need to do that with Mrs. Peterson." Rossi speculated. "Both kills are of an unsub who doesn't enjoy the killing or the torture, otherwise there would have been more signs of assault. He killed both people with a specific goal in mind, like he felt forced to. Maybe with Betty he didn't have to subdue her because she trusted him enough to turn her back on him and he saw an opportunity and went for it."

Simmons crossed his arms across his chest in thought.

"So Betty Peterson was a means to an end to get access to the house. But Scott Peterson...he was in the unsub's way so that was why the kill was slightly more personal."

"Having him killed in front of Sloane was getting rid of the main distraction in her life, the only thing that could distract her from him; her husband." Rossi added.

"This seems to be very much centered on Sloane," Simmons concluded. "We need to figure out how the unsub first came into contact with Sloane and how she became his obsession."

Rossi nodded in agreement.

"There is one thing about this that I don't get though." Simmons admitted. "If this unsub is so obsessed with Sloane, to the point that he would hold her for a year, why would he then take another women to take her place? Wouldn't that ruin his fantasy?"

"He told Sloane that he would do that, most likely to keep her in line." Rossi responded. "But the unsub's potential anger at her now could stress him to actually act on it. He could think that the risk of another person may cause Sloane to come back to him."

Simmons shook his head.

"So is deranged or methodical in all of this?"

Rossi gave out a morbid chuckle.

"Often times with these unsubs, it's both."

* * *

"So Garcia talked with the principal at the school where Sloane worked and he said that he had other parents complain about seeing a man on the other side of the fence at the playground fitting the description Sloane gave him." JJ said, walking over to Spencer as he looked through the window of Sloane's room. "But since they only got a few reports and he wasn't seen again, they didn't investigate further."

Spencer scoffed.

"Of course not...did they at least give the police the description when she disappeared?"

"They did," JJ responded, following Spencer's curious gaze on a sleeping Sloane. "But it led to a dead end, which now makes sense seeing as he took Sloane across the country."

Spencer nodded, the only acknowledgement he gave that he had heard her.

"You want to talk to her again." JJ stated with a knowing look.

"Did Garcia send you something?" Spencer asked instead of answering.

JJ sighed and pulled her phone out of her pocket to show him the pictures.

"Background information on all three victims. And Emily wants us to ask Sloane if she can tell us what was originally on these desks." She pointed to the two desks in the crime scene photos. "It looks like he only took two things when he left and they think it may be important to why he took Sloane in the first place. She should have sent them to you as well."

Spencer examined the image for a brief second and then turned back to Sloane.

"Would you mind if I talked to her alone?" Spencer asked quietly.

JJ pursed her lips.

"Yeah...I saw that coming." JJ squeezed Spencer's forearm. "I'll go talk to Mrs. Simon, get more a feel for Sloane's personality and why the unsub may have been drawn to her."

With that, she knocked softly on Sloane's door, spoke briefly to Mrs. Simon, before the two of them left together, Mrs. Simon hunched over as she moved down the hall.

Spencer waited until the two women had gone around the corner before he entered Sloane's room.

Sloane was curled on her side, her blanket pulled up to her chin and her hands tucked underneath her head. Spencer smiled to himself at the sight. He sat down in the chair that Mrs. Simon had vacated and pulled a book out of his bag, deciding he would read until she woke up.

"Are they gone?" Sloane suddenly asked causing Spencer to jump out of his seat, his book falling to the floor.

"Uh-uh yes, they're gone," Spencer stuttered, trying to regain his composure. His eyes narrowed. "Have you been awake this whole time?"

Sloane opened her eyes and sat up, pushing her blankets down to her feet.

"Well not the _whole_ time. But for the last half an hour after Cammy left to take K-9 out and all my mom has done is stare at me like I'm going to disappear?...yes."

Spencer's lips turned up in a small smile as he reached down to retrieve his fallen book.

"I didn't mean to scare you." Sloane said. "But...I have to admit, it was a little funny."

Spencer laughed and moved his chair closer to the bed.

"Well, I'm happy that I can provide you with some much needed entertainment." Spencer replied.

The two sat there, casting admiring glances at one another, neither one of them speaking. Spencer was content in the silence while Sloane was growing more and more confused. Sloane fluffed her curls and bit her lip, unable to keep it so quiet.

"So...what can I do you for Dr. Reid?" Sloane finally asked.

Spencer cleared his throat.

"Some of the members of my team are at the house where he took you," Spencer began. "And there are a few missing items that we believe could be important to identifying the man who held you; Charlie."

Sloane winced at the name, her gaze grew defiant.

"He made me call him that...but really I only ever thought of him as the bastard who murdered Scott." Sloane gripped the bottom of her hospital gown. "And he took some things?"

Spencer nodded, and brought out his iPad from his bag.

"Do you think you would be okay looking at some pictures of the room to see what is missing? In particular, we noticed that there were things missing from the desks, both the teacher and the student desks, had been reorganized in a hurry."

Sloane said nothing but held Spencer's gaze. He took Sloane's silence as a yes and placed the iPad on her lap, pictures of the two desks filling up the screen. She sucked in a sudden breath at the sight and she clenched the sides of the iPad as she looked closer.

"Well from his desk...it looks like his yellow dog stuffed animal and gold pen is missing. It's the only pen that he will use. And from my desk, I mean the teacher's desk…" she trailed off and glanced at Spencer, looking to see if he had noticed, but his face showed no change. "I don't see anything missing. Like, things have been moved around but he didn't take anything from it."

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a few strands of hair fell across his forehead

"You're sure nothing was taken? Positive?"

Sloane's eyes widened at his doubt and she gave a nod.

"Yes...I sat at that desk everyday for almost a year; I think I would know what was or was not on it."

Spencer pursed his lips.

"Of course, I'm sorry, it's just...do you remember if Charlie- I mean the man who took you, held some kind of significance for those objects?"

Sloane thought for a moment, staring at the iPad, hesitancy evident in her expression.

"Sloane…," Spencer said, enjoying the way her name fell off his tongue. He thought about what that meant as he waited for Sloane to answer, wondering what anything meant when it came to her really.

"He only ever used the gold pen," Sloane finally responded a minute or so later. "And the old stuffed dog...he never really did anything with it. It just sat on his desk. He used to stroke it and talk to it sometimes but that was about it...I think I tried to talk to him about it once and it made him smile."

Spencer scooted his chair closer to the bed.

"Good, good-"

"Good?" Sloane cut him off. "How is that a good thing?"

"I'm sorry," Spencer said quickly. "I just meant that that information is good in that it is useful. So the stuffed dog was old?"

"Yeah...I mean, it was obvious that it had once belonged to a child..."

And they again fell into silence.

* * *

Meanwhile, JJ walked Mrs. Simon into the hospital cafeteria and sat her down at a corner table, looking at her cautiously.

"Can I get you anything Mrs. Simon? Coffee, tea?"

Mrs. Simon shook her head.

"Oh, no thank you...I don't drink either. It is against my family's religion."

"You're Mormon?" JJ guessed, sliding into the seat in front of her.

"Yes," Mrs. Simon answered. "I joined the Mormon church when I was an eighteen year old in Spain, that is how I met Sloane's father. He was serving a Mormon mission at the time and taught me about the church."

JJ nodded.

"So the church played a huge role in how you raised Sloane and Cameron?"

"Very much. It was the centerpoint of their lives growing up. But I'm afraid that my husband and I did not do our job in keeping it that way."

"Sloane and Cameron don't practice Mormonism?"

Mrs. Simon again shook her head.

"No. Cameron came out as a gay when he entered high school and began dating other men, something that our church frowns upon and he was immediately cast out of our ward. Sloane has always looked out for Cameron growing up and didn't like it, so she decided that if they were not going to accept her brother for who he is, she would leave too."

"Is Sloane like that with other people? Protective?"

Mrs. Simon let out a light laugh.

"Always. Sloane has always been putting the needs of others above her own. It is something that our church teaches a lot about: service and how important it is...I don't think that there is a selfish bone in her entire body."

JJ nodded.

"So this is something that other people would know about her? How selfless she is?"

Mrs. Simon leaned in, placing her elbows on the table.

"Agent, her kindness radiates from her inside and out. I sometimes wondered if it would cause others to take advantage of her...it brings me no joy to say that I was right."

JJ clasped her fingers together on the table as Mrs. Simon sat back in her chair.

"Mrs. Simon, we know that your husband died a year before Sloane and Scott were taken...do you think that there is any possibility that there could be a connection between your husband and the man who did this?"

"My husband was not perfect Agent Jareau but he did not have a habit of making enemies. He was honest and respectful to everyone that he met."

"Do you have any extended family?"

"Bill's family died in a car accident while he was on his mission and I was raised in a Spanish orphanage...the only family either one of us had was the one that we had made together." Mrs. Simon reached her hands across the table and grasped JJ's. "I am saddened by the loss of my son in law and I want nothing more than to catch whoever did this to him and my daughter. I have lost enough family and need to see some justice. Please...find him."

JJ squeezed Mrs. Simon's hands in response.

* * *

"I need to get out of this room!" Sloane suddenly exclaimed and turned in her bed, placing her feet into hospital slippers that sat on the floor.

Spencer stood up quickly, restraining himself from reaching towards her and forcing her back in bed.

"Are you sure that you should be doing that? Your chart says that you're being kept overnight just in case-"

"In case of what? There's nothing that was done to me that they haven't found yet. If it was up to me, I would be on my way home."

Sloane walked to the door and pulled on a robe that hung on a hook behind it.

"If you want to stay in here, that's up to you. But if you're wanting to ask me more questions, then you're going to have to come." Sloane looked at Spencer expectantly. "I've been in this room since they found me, barely leaving it to take a shower, and I just can't be confined to a room anymore."

Sloane didn't wait for Spencer's answer before she left but smiled when only a few moments later, she heard him hurry along behind her.

Sloane didn't have an exact place in mind of where she was headed; she really didn't care. All she knew was that she had to get back to who she was almost a year ago. The man wouldn't take that from her.

He already took Scott.

He wasn't going to take her too.

Spencer was silent as they walked, glancing her way every so often, but saying nothing. He couldn't help but admire the look of determination on her face and the way that she moved with so much confidence. It was when he was caught up in watching her that she suddenly came to a halt and it took a second until he finally saw what caught her attention.

A piano.

A mini grand piano sat in what appeared to be a lounge area of the hospital. Sloane took small steps towards it, like she was partly afraid, and then she was there, her knee bumping into the piano bench.

Sloane took a deep breath before she pulled out the bench, sat down, and scooted it closer to the piano. She stretched her hands to the keys and rested her fingertips on top of them lightly; the cool, smooth surface feeling like a memory from a dream long ago. Sloane softly played the scales, stretching out her fingers as she did so, and Spencer's pulse quickened in anticipation as a grin spread across her face.

And then she began to play.

Spencer recognized the song instantly as Lily Allen's rendition of _Somewhere Only We Know_ , a sweet but almost melancholy tune. Sloane played the introduction with ease, her hands moving across the keys fluidly, and it wasn't long before her voice followed, low and sure. Spencer's focus was entirely on the song, both Sloane's playing and singing, that her eyes flicking onto his face every so often nearly knocked him off of his feet.

As Sloane played, Spencer thought on how she exuded a strength that he had never witnessed before in a victim. She was different, deciding to not reflect on her experiences but rather relay them to something constructive so easily, it was almost concerning. But the sorrow that Sloane showed for Scott was very real, the disgust and anger that she had for the man was very real, and the worry that she had for a woman who may or may not be in danger, there was no faking that.

Spencer was completely fascinated with Sloane.

Sloane, who he only met hours before yet felt like he had known her forever. Sloane, whose husband was killed right in front of her and who she grieved for as she went through hell. Sloane, who was held captive for almost a year and yet cares more about a potential victim than her own suffering. Sloane, whose favorite book was Sense and Sensibility and who loves others more than herself.

Spencer felt a pull to her that he knew he had to keep in check. She was a victim of a terrible crime who was deserving of the help only his team could lend. He swore to himself then and there that he had to redirect all of these misplaced feelings to the case.

He had to focus.

Spencer could tell that the song was coming to an end. Sloane's pace was slowing and her head was turned in his direction as she sang the song's last words.

" _Somewhere only we know."_

Sloane's fingers came off of the keys and fell into her lap, her eyes never leaving Spencer's, and her foot gently coming off of the petal. Sloane searched Spencer's gaze, wondering what he could possibly be thinking, as she pondered what was on her mind.

The man hadn't taken music away from her.

It still brought her joy that only it ever did.

Sloane was surprised she was able to get through the song without crying, without thinking too much of Scott, but she realized in that moment that she had mourned him long ago.

He was never coming back but she was here.

And she'd be damned if she would let what happened to her family happen to someone else's.

Unable to sit in silence anymore, Sloane broke the trance by clearing her throat, and turning away.

"Uh, my mom had both Cammy and I take piano lessons when we were kids...well it's really a Mormon thing, most Mormons take lessons. But anyways, I was always pretty good at it but, uh, I didn't feel that same passion for it that I got when I surfed or taught so I didn't go on to be professional like she wanted...same with singing. All Mormons sing but she also had me take voice lessons…" Sloane knew she was rambling but she thought it was better than not saying anything at all. "And music definitely makes me happy and it affects my mood a lot but I like to do it my way and not fit into some box-"

Spencer started backing from the room, his sneakers squeaking against the tile caused Sloane to look back into his direction.

"Did you sing this song in public before you were taken?"

Sloane nodded.

"Uh...yeah, actually, I sang this at our district staff's talent show about three months before...do you think he was there? Do you think that that's why he picked me?"

Spencer quickly walked from the room, looking to find JJ and tell her what he had just discovered, as Sloane followed.

"Dr. Reid? Dr. Reid!"

Spencer was too caught up in his revelation to hear her.

The unsub thought that Sloane asked him to take her.

To somewhere only they knew...


End file.
